


Balancing the Scales

by racheljessop



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, PWP, Pegging, Praise Kink, cameo by adelaide in beginning bc i think she's neat, enemies with benefits and pretending that's it, pre established sexual relationship between john and the deputy, this got weirdly emotional idk, this was written for my specific interests but you can enjoy it if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/racheljessop/pseuds/racheljessop
Summary: Always listen to Adelaide.
Relationships: Deputy | Judge/John Seed, Female Deputy | Judge/John Seed
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Balancing the Scales

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write john seed getting pegged idk just here it is

The Deputy didn’t think she’d ever gotten a sweeter reward for answering a call from the good people of the resistance. The principles of liberty and freedom were nice in theory, but nothing could quite match the heat she felt from the sight of John Seed beneath her panting, with legs spread and begging blue eyes.

Goddamn, she’d have to thank Adelaide for this later. Buy her a fucking fruit basket. Shit, a new fucking helicopter. It was Adelaide who’d called her (and Rook swore with more panic in her voice than when she’d been taken hostage in the shed of her Marina) to warn her the peggies were planning to take out “…the only decent sex shop in the whole goddamn county!”

The cougar dug her brightly painted claws into Rook’s arm as she pulled her along towards Tulip and forced her into the passenger’s seat. “Heading there with cans of gasoline and explosives to turn the place into nothing but a heap of melted plastic. They’ve gone too damn far!”

Lucky for the Deputy, she was never one to turn down a chance at killing peggies, and within five minutes of landing they’d cleared the place and stood triumphantly in front of a wall of multicolored silicone products.

Adelaide patted her on the back. “Well, the way I see it, our best course of action is to get all this back to the Marina. You know, for safekeeping. And I don’t think it would be so unfair as to take a little finder’s fee for protecting the merchandise,” she reasoned while sliding a box with a vibrating wand off its display hook. Rook raised an eyebrow.

“What?!” She asked defensively. “Don’t worry darlin’, you’ll get your cut. I’ll even give ya first dibs.” Before Rook could decline she caught another large package Adelaide had taken from its perch and thrown her way.

“Now this is the best damn strap-on for a good pegging session you’re ever gonna find, and trust me, Xander and I have conducted extensive trials.” Rook looked down at the box displaying lacy briefs with simple, sleek silicone shaft protruding from the front.

She was sure Adelaide clocked the blush on her face as she hung the package back on the appropriate hook. “Tell ya what, I’ll step out and give you some privacy to shop to your little heart’s content.” She looked back at Rook from the doorway, hands up in the air in mock defensiveness. “And I won’t be asking aaaaaany questions… Although I might be placin’ a few bets.” With that she gave a parting wink and closed the shop door behind her.

Rook stood still, embarrassment increasing rather than subsiding, until she heard the radio blasting from Adelaide’s helicopter, the pilot’s attempt at an extra layer of privacy. Tentatively, she began to survey the store. She elected to shove a few simple things, assorted condoms and lube, into her backpack, just to be able to assure Adelaide she’d taken something – she knew turning the woman down would just make her press more. She got a little braver and threw in, almost at random, a few small, discreet vibrators.

She started to walk towards the door to leave before biting her lip in hesitation. Unable to shake it from her mind, she, on a whim, ran back to grab the box Adelaide had thrown her way and crammed it into her bag as well. She topped it off by clawing a few random pieces of lingerie off mannequins to throw in, zipping her bag up securely and going out to meet her partner who, true to her word, didn’t say a thing except to direct her which boxes to pack up and load into the chopper.

Still, Rook felt a nervous lump in her throat that seemed like it bubbled up and stayed there all the while until… Well, all the while until days later when she walked into the familiar abandoned cabin.

John was already seated in the plush recliner in the corner of the room, near a dusty and surely nonfunctional fireplace. “Deputy,” he addressed her and looked down thoughtfully at the shiny, thick watch around his wrist that Rook was sure cost more than the truck she’d driven up here, “You’re late. I was beginning to worry.”

He spoke the words mockingly, but Rook could read him well enough at this point to detect the hint of genuine insecurity. Fuck, she’d felt it too when she walked in the door, not knowing if he’d be there this time. They’d kept these semi-regular rendezvous, both of their personal shames, for what felt like forever, never saying out loud what it really was between them, how or _if_ it would ever come an end.

Always one of few words, Dep merely shrugged and dropped her backpack at the door, answering by walking the distance of the tiny room of the cabin (and it felt like crossing the whole fucking Valley, and the air thicker that the sickly sweet mist that hung over the Henbane) stopped where he was seated (the way he looked up at her made her feel fifty feet tall and weightless, like standing on top of The Father’s statue and ready to jump) and putting one leg on either side of him, lowering herself onto his lap and raising her hands to hold his face, taking in a final deep breath to inhale the scent she knew as uniquely his (he was as intoxicating as any bliss and twice as likely to be the death of her) before finally, finally closing the last bit of distance between them and pressing their lips together.

It had been a week at most since they’d done this last, and they were fucking starved for each other. His arm was wrapped tight around her waist, other resting on her thigh, rubbing against the jeans, and she moved her hands to run though his hair and tilt his head back to place harsh kisses on his neck while she pulled on slicked back locks, desperate to mark him, mess him up, break down every bit of his polished veneer.

She pulled back to trace a finger along the dark rosy bruise appearing on the side of his neck. “To wear you sin on your skin…” she teased him, her voice cracking, feeling like the first time she’d spoken in days. He groaned helplessly and lifted his hips to grind into her.

“It does take courage, darling,” his hand ran up her shirt and nails dragged against her sides, leaving light marks of his own and making her shiver, “You’ll learn soon enough.”

“You’re so brave,” she cracked with a matching grind down of her hips, returning for another kiss. This one slower, lazier, an act of leisure. Each time that they did this it seemed they went a little slower, drug things out a little more, clung to the fleeting moment a bit more desperately.

Rook felt her heart pound in her chest. She wondered if he could feel her quickened pulse. He paid attention to things like that, always reading her. “What do you say we try something new today?” She asked breathlessly, trying not to lose her nerve.

“The usual debauchery not exciting enough for you, Deputy?”

She rolled her eyes and jumped up from his lap, leaving him feeling cold.

“I have a surprise.” She ran to grab her backpack and darted into the tiny bathroom. John briefly wondered if he was supposed to follow (he was flooded with memories of bending her over the sink in that very bathroom during a previous meeting) until he heard the lock click behind her.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Deputy.” He felt a now familiar wave of disgust for himself, for how this woman made him desperate and afraid. He wanted her back right away, mainly so he could stop questioning why he so feared her leaving.

And in the cramped space of the bathroom, Rook did her best not to hyperventilate as she threw her usual clothes to the ground and changed into the articles tucked away in her backpack, rushing to adjust pieces, get straps and various silicone parts in place before looking in the mirror to try to convince herself she didn’t look foolish.

Outside, fear pricked at the back of John’s neck as well, he was trying without success to recall whether the bathroom had a window large enough for the woman to slip out and leave him alone, wanting. His thoughts were finally interrupted with a creak of the opening door, revealing an incredible sight. The Deputy stood in the doorway, curves were accentuated perfectly by black lace outfit, the outline of already hard nipples showing through a delicate bralette. Matching bottoms clung around her full hips, and jutting out from the front the smooth, black phallic attachment.

Rook tried to read the wide blue eyes trained on the front of her crotch for a sign of anything – arousal, disgust, anything – to let her know where she stood with him. She shifted her weight.

“Well Johnny. What’s it gonna be?” His eyes trailed back to her face. She gave one last plea, “You gonna say yes for me?”

He smiled and so much washed over her, overwhelming her. Relief, excitement, something she couldn’t name. He still didn’t speak, but beckoned her towards him with a come hither motion and a look of pure lust.

He put a hand on her hip and moved the other along the length of the toy, sizing it up. It was relatively modest, slender shaft curving along a moderate length and coming to a rounded end. She stood in place, letting him continue to fondle her as he see fit – grabbing a handful of her covered ass and massaging, pinching and rolling a nipple through lace, finally putting a hand to the back of her neck and pulling her down so her ear was even with his mouth.

“ _Yes_.” He said just loud enough for her to hear, ran his tongue along the shell of her ear. She grabbed fistfuls of his blue silk shirt and kissed him. The toy hung awkwardly between them, poking into his stomach as she climbed back to straddle him.

She pushed it to the side to reach down and stroke his hardness through jeans, delighted at the way he twitched to meet her palm. He was made for her touch.

“You wear too many fucking layers, John.” Her right hand continued stroking, feeling his arousal dance beneath her fingertips, while her left hand clumsily undid the buttons of his vest.

He ran a hand lazily through her hair. “One of the few methods I have of teaching you patience. Restraint.”

She leaned back slightly and smirked before pulling fistfuls of silk in opposite directions, exposing his chest, causing buttons to fly across the room like so many sparks.

“Didn’t work.” She retorted.

He furrowed his brow and frowned slightly, though she could feel him twitch again in excitement concurrently. “You’ll pay for that in due time, Deputy.”

“Add it to my tab.” She leaned down to kiss and lick at nipples, delighting at how they hardened against her tongue. In spite of his deliberately crafted calm exterior, John could never betray his body’s desires, not truly. “Although I think this makes us one for one on shirts,” she mumbled against his nipple before blowing ghostly breath, sending shivers through his body.

“In terms of _quantity_ maybe, but quality…” The scales of justice never balanced with him. He arched into her machinations in the same heartbeat that he complained to her. “Harder,” he instructed with a whine, and she bit down on the left nipple forcefully before sucking, the slight metallic taste of blood sliding along her tongue, pinching harsh pressure against right nipple as she did.

“Look at you.” She pulled up to stare into blue depths, tattooed hands still tangled in her hair. “Already so fucking needy for me.” The flush across his face left no room for argument. “And I’m the one that needs to learn patience?”

He loosened his fingers from her locks and trailed down her neck, her chest, along the full curve of her breast. “Why, my dear, I haven’t laid a hand on you today.” He ran a thumb across lace-covered nipple, feeling it harden to his touch. “Should I?” He gathered and tugged at the lace, she moaned at the fabric brushing against erect nipple, “Do you think this lovely lingerie cost as much as my shirt?” He hummed in artificial contemplation.

“Maybe so, but only good boys get want they want today, Johnny.”

He sighed in disappointment, loosening his grip, and she kissed the pout from his face. She pulled back, steadied herself on the arms of the chair to stand up, stepping back to get a full view. The bruises on his neck were fading to a deep red wine, tomorrow she was sure they’d be dark purple, hidden under makeup or a well-placed scarf by the master at concealment. Abused nipples had reddened to match the bright coloring of ‘SLOTH’ that jutted out as his sculpted chest heaved in breathy pants, making the pink blush dusting his face look all the more innocent, delicate, perfect.

Her eyes trailed down to denim covered bulge. “Show me how hard you are for me,” she commanded.

He obeyed wordlessly, with sure, slow fingers, undoing his belt and exposing his hard cock. She nodded in permission and he stroked the length, tossing his head back and moaning at contact. She wanted nothing more than to reach her own hand down past the harness she still wore to stroke her swollen clit, or switch on the subtle butterfly vibrator pressed snugly between her lips. But her game wasn’t over yet, and today was about giving, not receiving.

“Do you think about me when you’re alone, touching yourself like this at night?”

“Yes,” he confessed, locking eyes with her, fully entranced as he ran his hand up and down, as teasingly slow as her measured drawl.

“Do you only think of me?”

“YES.” A pledge and a prayer to her, a coerced confession to his own god.

“When did you first touch yourself to thoughts of me?’

“The night after I first saw you,” another shameless admission.

She hummed in approval. “Get on the bed and spread your legs, John.” He nodded obediently and stood up, straightening arms to let vest and shirt fall in a pile in the chair and kicking boxers and jeans off and to the floor. He laid on the bed, legs bent and spread, cock pointing upward and bearing himself to her. He made no move to continue stroking himself, but reached down to give his balls a firm, deep grasp, pushing them against the base of his shaft and groaning desperately.

Without taking eyes off him, she walked around the bed, considering him, like a lion circling its prey. She glanced thoughtfully at the full-length mirror to the side of the bed before pushing and tilting it towards her sprawled out lover. Finally, she pulled a pillow from its place propped on headboard and fluffed it as she moved back to the end of the bed, taking a last look at the man before climbing onto the bed to join him.

She placed gentle kisses on both knees before directing him again, “Lift your hips for me, baby,” and sliding the pillow underneath to prop him up for her.

“Hmmmm…” She trailed a finger from the base of his cock to his puckered entrance, feeling the smooth, delicate skin, “You shave the whole thing, huh?”

“’m not uncivilized.” She rewarded him with a twinkling laugh, impressed at his ability to still fire back in his current position. He beamed with pride, warmth radiated from his chest and through his whole body. He felt unknown fulfillment every time he could earn a genuine laugh from her. When they were alone, he worked methodically to pull laughs, moans, smiles from her with the care and precision he pulled screams and secrets from others.

She settled between his legs to lean down and kiss him, gentle, reassuring. He tried to remember if he’d ever been kissed like this, but it ended before he could clear the fog of desire from his mind to think. She placed a single kiss to his forehead before pulling back again. He would have been mortified at the little whimper he let out if he wasn’t so far gone already.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Rook pulled the bottle of lube from the pocket on the side of the lacy bottoms and poured a generous amount on her fingers, working the glistening liquid over the length of them to warm it. Once she was satisfied, she pressed the tip of her middle finger against his entrance. She played leisurely with the soft, dusty pink skin there, teasing pressure at the sensitive nerve endings.

“Rook.” He said, a tone of warning.

She wrapped her free arm around his leg to hike it up higher, hand snaking around to pat his toned thigh reassuringly. “Don’t wanna hurt you, John.”

“I’d prefer pain to this.” He groaned.

She kissed the thigh cradled in her arm. “I know.” He felt the smirk against his skin.

She was nothing if not merciful though, and pressed into the tightness, feeling muscles clench around her digit as she moved it in slowly, not pressing past her second knuckle.

John let out a heavy breath, willing himself into relaxation. The intrusion of her finger stung, slight burning sensation traveling up his spine, making him shiver. But the stretch felt so good, so dirty, he couldn’t help himself as he pressed down to meet her, willing himself to take the rest of the slender digit.

“Aaaah.”

“So tight, John.” She admired how he fit snugly around her finger, “Such a cute little asshole, it’s a shame you don’t play with it more often.”

She was filthy enough to make even him blush. “I am trying to be more… virtuous, you know.” 

It was an interesting thing for him to respond to so earnestly, she thought, but without deterrence, massaging her finger against his walls.

“Well you’re being such a good boy for me right now, aren’t you?” She pressed against his prostate as she said it, and his whole body trembled, precum beading at tip of his cock.

“Yessss.” He answered with a hiss. “More. I need more of you.”

She leaned inward, towards him, pressing her fingers deeper while the other hand grabbed his cock to hold in place before lowering her mouth around him. As her lips came to the base, she pushed another finger inside him.

He cried out her name, bucking into her mouth, making her gag slightly. He felt some shame at how small choking noises only intensified the pleasure he felt from having his cock buried in warm, wet heat while his hole burned and stretched with rough fingers shoving against his prostate. Or he would have, if he was capable of shame right now. He continued small thrusts into her mouth while she worked fingers to match his pace.

“St-stop darling,” he finally begged. He felt the familiar edge nearing, and he still wanted her to fuck him. She released his cock from her mouth with a slight pop, but showed no signs of letting up on his stretched little hole, filling him with a third finger.

“R-rook.” Even without the stimulation to his dick he pulled back in warning, so close to cumming from her fingers.

“Oh, poor John.” She backed off his prostate, playing and pressing against surrounding tight walls instead, teasing him with the promise of how much she could open him. Every nerve ending seemed to lead straight to his dick.

“Are you ready?” She retracted her fingers to just tips inside him. He nodded.

She shook her head. “You have to tell me what you want.”

He opened his eyes, those wide, desperate baby blues taking hold of her. He reached over to take her free hand, lace fingers together. “Please,” he begged so pretty to her, “Please fuck me. Please give it to me. I need it.”

She gave his hand a chaste kiss, lips pressed soft against inked skin as she removed the last of her fingers.

“Turn around and get on your hands and knees.”

He did as she asked, rolling over to turn his back to her.

“No, no, this way,” She grabbed his hips and gently turned him to face the mirror she’d tilted towards the bed. She patted his hair comfortingly. “I want to see every beautiful expression you make.” She left a hand on his shoulder and leaned down further to whisper in his ear. “And more importantly, I want _you_ to see how good you look getting fucked.”

She popped the top back off the lube with a click, pouring along the length of the strap-on and rubbing up and down to coat it. Before lining the toy up with his entrance, she reached into the other pocket on her harness to pull out a small remote to the vibrator pressed snugly against lips.

“One last surprise, John.” She leaned against him and slipped the remote into his hand. “I thought you might deserve a _little_ control back.”

The old, self-assured grin returned to his face immediately as he turned the remote thoughtfully in his hands, considering the implications. “You may regret that, Deputy.”

“I should probably regret a lot of things with you, John.”

She tapped the rounded head of the glistening black toy against his hole, teasing, before settling in between his cheeks. “You have to tell me when, my herald.”

He grunted at the sarcastic moniker, nodding back at her. “Now,” he instructed.

She pushed her hips forward to slide the toy in, settling still when she felt herself flush against his cheeks, unable to go forward. She kissed his back as she gave him time to adjust, taking the time to admire rippling muscles and scars coming together in peaks across the expanse of skin. “You look so beautiful like this.” She ghosted comforting fingers along his back.

John bit his lip, he felt like he was being split open by the dildo penetrating him. Split open for her, and it felt so good, so right. He reached back to put his hand against the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

She trailed her opposite hand around to his front, along his stomach, his chest, until she came up to his throat, stroking before resting there, feeling his pulse, his breath beneath her fingertips.

They stayed like this for a while, everything feeling just right. This was _them_. Hands at each other’s necks to press into each other, balancing each other. Synching breathing. Giving and taking.

John gripped the back of her neck a little tighter and rubbed as he started to rock his hips back, fucking against the dildo. She held still against him for the moment, letting him adjust and show her how he wanted to take it. She pulled back to better watch him, staring in amazement at the sight of his asshole clenching around the toy.

He continued rolling hips back until he found an angle that pressed the silicone head against his prostate. “Fuck,” he moaned and tossed his head back. She stroked his hair while trying to memorize the positioning, ready to take over.

She held his hips in place to stop his motions. “You’re being such a good boy for me, Johnny.” He groaned at the praise, satisfying something deep inside of him. She slowly pulled the toy back out to just the head, making slow, deep thrusts back in, hitting that spot inside of him every time. She fucked him leisurely, taking in his every moan, whimper, gasp. “Such sweet noises for me baby, just for me,” He nodded and cursed. “Yes!”

“Look at yourself, John. You take it so perfect, so good.” She threaded fingers through his hair then gripped, pulling him up by it to force him to look in the mirror. His eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated in pleasure, face flushed and glistening with sweat that trailed down his chest.

Every stroke felt incredible, and he could only lean in and give himself over to the sensation, the ecstasy pounding through his veins. He’d had his fair share of regular sexual indiscretions since pledging his life to the Project, but it had been so long since he’d been fucked, been _filled_ like this. _And never by someone like her_. She looked perfect like this, behind him, messy hair falling in her face and satisfied smile. He wanted to take everything she had to give him.

“More,” he asked, leaning back, “Harder.” She shook her head, hair bouncing with her motions. “Patience,” was her answer, “I’m not done with you.” She reached down to rub her thumb at the soft skin around his entrance, where he was stretched to take her strap, teasing him.

He groaned in equal parts annoyance and pleasure, hanging his head. He reached down to stroke himself roughly, trying to give himself some of the stimulation he desperately needed.

She swatted his hand away and grabbed his chin, pulling his face back to the mirror without stopping her slow thrusts, looking with intensity in her eyes he’d seen all too many times before, but never so intimately. “No. You’ll touch yourself when I say you can touch yourself, John.” He _hmphed_ in protest.

“If that’s how you insist on playing, Deputy.” As soon as he spoke the words, he finally switched on the remote in his hand to a midway point, flooding her with bursts of pleasure from vibrations, reverberating through the harness and drumming against his prostrate.

“Fuck,” She cursed and closed her eyes behind him, rocking against the toy and thrusting into him with the same motions. Just as she found a rhythm, he slid the dial back to the left, reducing the vibrations to a low buzz.

She growled and dug her nails into his hips where her hand rested. “Fucking asshole.”

He chuckled, “You set the rules darling,” he rocked back against her, increasing pressure against his prostate best he could, “We can both be _so_ unfair if we choose.”

She gave a shark jerk of her hips in response, pounding the toy into him roughly, in exactly the right spot. She sped up with harsher thrusts, desperately rubbing against the harness and lightly buzzing toy for friction with the same motions she fucked into his eager, wanting hole. He mumbled her name over and over, taking every thrust, savoring the euphoria at having finally driven her to fuck him like he wants, lose herself in it. He would take everything she could give, he would let her break him if she wanted. His head felt so light and swirling he couldn’t even be sure if he pledged that, or just continued to softly chant her name.

She cut off the nothings he whispered to himself, turning his head to the side to kiss him, beard scratching against her face. As they kissed, she finally reached down to stroke his cock, making him moan into her mouth. He bucked against her hand, back against the toy, in an irregular rhythm, giving in and letting his exhausted body lead him to the edge.

“Cum for me, John,” she whispered against his cheeks, pressing soft kisses against his jawline at the same time she fucked him roughly with the toy. He obeyed her not a moment later, letting a particularly powerful thrust into his prostate bring him to release, spilling hot cum onto the bed, onto her hand with a cry.

She milked him dry with her hand, pulling it back only to lick his seed from it, looking straight into the mirror she does, then shoving the fingers into his mouth, thrusting in at the same harsh pace she fucks him. He can taste himself and he’s almost gagging, and already starting to feel sore from where she continues to pound into him, but it all just makes his heart beat faster.

“John!” This time she left the toy buried deep inside him, no longer attempting long strokes as she chased her finish, rutting her clit against the harness and rocking against the teasing vibrations. As she did, the head of the toy pressed hard against his overstimulated prostate. The sensation was overwhelming. He could see in the mirror tears building up in his eyes, but all he could focus on was the beautiful woman coming apart behind him, inside him. He finally slid the dial on the remote clutched in his hand again and felt the vibrations amplify, shooting pain and pleasure straight from his ass to the still leaking tip of his cock.

Rook cursed and buried her face into his back, arms tight around him and clawing at his chest as she reached her breaking point, hips flush against the cheeks of his ass and clit pressed hard against the rubber of the harness while her walls pulsed and fluttered around nothing, vibrations all that was there to fill her up.

“T-too much,” she mumbled against his back. He understands and instantly switches the remote off.

He’s rewarded by her nuzzling against him and going limp. He gives into her weight and lowers himself to lay flat on his stomach, groaning slightly as he feels the plastic shaft slip out and leave him empty. It pokes awkwardly between his cheeks as Rook peppers kisses on his neck and shoulders before finally pulling it from its harness to toss across the room and rolling over next to John.

“You’ll just have to go looking for that before you leave, Deputy.” He chided and turned on his side to face her.

“Why? So eager to do it again some time?”

He gave her a dismissive shake of his head, but something about the ‘some time’ wounded him. They’d soon have to part ways, return to their opposite sides, not knowing when they’d be joined again.

“Was it um… was it alright?” Rook asked, wiggling against him.

He placed a single chaste kiss on her lips. “Perfect.” He whispered against her mouth.

The next ‘some time’ was never guaranteed, but for now John and the Deputy shared a bed and a secret all their own.


End file.
